Promises
by Abarero
Summary: His first thought was that a white flag didn't suit Germany at all. Post WWII- Germany/Italy.


**Promises

* * *

**

His first thought was that a white flag didn't suit Germany at all. As much as he'd tried in the past to give the stoic man a flag of surrender, it wasn't until _now_, until the moment Germany had chosen the flag himself, that Italy realized how unfitting an image it was.

And now, they were planning to divide Germany's house and keep him there; four Allies now occupying four parts of Germany's home. They were holding him in a jail cell until they finalized the details on this decision. Italy bit his lip, worried that he wouldn't have the nerve to speak in such a dire situation.

_But I might not have another chance. With Germany under house arrest, I might never…_

He clutched his fist, a determined expression falling over his usually jovial smile. Italy wasn't going to lose anyone, not anymore. Marching with purpose, he approached where Germany sat dejectedly behind the bars of the cell.

"I-Italy?" He asked on hearing the footsteps. "They let you in? But…"

Italy allowed himself a small smile and lifted up a basket. "Ve~, the guard doesn't know _who_ we are, Germany. You're just another soldier to him. He isn't going to mind me bringing you a snack. Although," Italy frowned, "I think he might have gotten his dirty hands in the sauce when he searched my basket."

Germany shook his head and walked over to the front of the cell. He was so tired that he wasn't thinking straight anymore. At least Italy still seemed about the same, he could be thankful for that.

As the Italian fussed over finding ways to slide pasta and other goodies through the bars, Germany cleared his throat. "Italy, why are you really here?"

"Huh? Isn't that obvious? I wanted to see you, Germany."

Germany frowned. "After all that's happened?"

Italy reached through the bars at that, firmly gripping Germany's hand. "You're still here, Germany. I needed to see that for myself."

"Of course I'm…"

A slender finger pressed to his lips and silenced him, Italy's eyes now dropping to the floor. "I've lost people before, Germany. People I've loved a lot. When I heard about your boss, I was so afraid that…that…"

He quickly brushed his tears away and steeled his gaze; the German almost startled by how intense Italy's expression was as he continued.

"You're not going to leave me, Germany. I don't care if the Allies have you under house arrest, I'll find a way to visit. And I know there are going to be times that our bosses don't agree and it'll make things hard for us, but…but… I don't care, Germany."

"Italy…"

A tenative hand slid up to Germany's cheek and drew him closer, Italy standing on his tiptoes as he kissed the other man through the bars of the cell. Germany flushed pink as the other country withdrew.

"What are you…"

"Promise me, Germany." He reached out again and squeezed his hand. "No matter what happens around us. You won't leave me."

And looking into wide brown eyes that were rimmed with unshed tears, Germany understood exactly what Italy was wanting. He squeezed the other country's hand back. "I promise. I won't forget you."

At those simple words, Italy beamed and he rushed forward to hug Germany only to clang painfully into the bars between them.

"Oww…"

Germany smiled, truly smiled, for the first time in months. "You'll never change, will you?"

Italy grinned. "You'd better not either, Germany! I love you just as you are, so don't change. Promise!"

"Hey now," he murmured, blushing again. "What's with all the promises?"

"Oh! That's right, I haven't promised you anything," Italy said, somehow finding a way to cling to Germany around the bars. It was an awkward embrace, but Germany felt compelled to return it. As he roughly reached out and patted Italy's head, the other  
country smiled against his chest.

"Hey Germany, I'll always be there for you, you know that, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good. So I promise if you ever need _anything_, whether it's pasta or someone to talk to, or a painting- I'm good at those! – or you want to yell at someone to run faster or you miss tying my shoes or even if you need help in another war…"

Germany cupped Italy's chin, bringing the rambling list to a halt, as he titled his face to look up at him. "Italy." He took a deep breath and then continued. "Why don't we just…"

He leaned closer, searching for the words. He was never good at this sort of thing. "You and I. Why don't we…just promise to be good to one another? Then everything can just work itself out from there."

Italy blinked, a vague realization dawning on his features. "You mean like…like how you're extra nice to someone special who you love?"

Germany blushed, mumbling, "Yeah. Like that."

Clattering against the bars again, Italy soundly kissed him on the lips and then on the cheek. "I promise, Germany. You and me, we'll be just fine!"

Germany tentatively gave Italy's hand another squeeze, a small smile tugging at his lips as he replied. "The two of us will be just fine. Promise."


End file.
